


Re: (That Day, Forgotten)

by Of_Lights_and_Shadows



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Cross-Posted on deviantArt, Gen, I Wrote This Two Years Ago, I made America sad on his birthday, I'm a horrible person, I'm not joking - Freeform, if you remember a doujinshi named Silencer, it's partly inspired by it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 02:32:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7387087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Of_Lights_and_Shadows/pseuds/Of_Lights_and_Shadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a nightmare, he tells himself. A horrible nightmare, and nothing more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Re: (That Day, Forgotten)

**Author's Note:**

> As I slowly fic transfer (most of my works are on dA, and some few on tumblr), it's time I post this. Why now? Because I'm an awful excuse for a human being, who likes to torture the feels of others.

 

 

 

"This must have been a a nightmare. Nothing but a bad dream. They can't hurt me." Alfred repeated to himself over and over. ''And on my birthday, too, how unheroic is that?'' he whined. "I'll call Arthur." he decided after a few moments. "He always knows how to make me feel relaxed." he reasoned. "Heh. I'm still acting as if he's my big bro... Seriously, I need to be a hero and not be so dependent on him..."

Alfred tried to call Arthur. Multiple times. He was always greeted with the same message, from the same monotonous voice.

 

  
**The number you are trying to reach does not exist.**

 

''WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN? IS THAT A SICK PRANK OR SOMETHING?'' he yelled, throwing his phone on the wall, twenty three attempts later. ''Maybe I should try calling Canada... He might have an idea on what's happening...''

Canada picked the phone quickly, as if it was next to him. ''Yes? What is it, America?'' he asked, hoping for the first time in years, that his brother would boast about his birthday, rather than needing advice.

''Yo, Canada!'' he greeted. ''I was having a bad dream, and I was wondering..... Do you know were England is? I can't reach him on his phone.''

Silence.

''Alfred....'' Canada started, ''don't you remember?''

''Remember what, bro?''

Silence.

''England died, America.'' Canada replied. ''He's been dead for years now.''

Alfred remained silent for a moment, then he started laughing. ''Nice one, Matt! For once there, I thought you were serious!''

''I AM serious!'' the Canadian yelled. ''Arthur has been dead for fifty years now!''

Alfred dropped his phone. He couldn't believe it. Arthur.... Dead? But Arthur was a nation, like him. He couldn't have died that easy!

He felt the need to throw up. The image of a harmed England made him feel sick.

But he suddenly remembered who he should blame, who he should hate for losing the most important person in his life, his brother.

The sea.

The sea that Arthur always loved and Alfred loathed. The sea that Arthur worshiped as if she was a Goddess, the Goddess he feared and respected and treasured. Arthur said he loved the sea, because She brought him Alfred. But Alfred loathed Her, because She always took Arthur away from him. And when he left Arthur so he could cross Her whenever he wanted, She didn't let him. And She gave Arthur new brothers and sisters, as if She was trying to spite poor little Alfred more.

But claiming his life? That was the last straw for Alfred. She drowned the land that once was the British Isles. She took in Her darkest chambers his big brother, and his brother's brothers as well, and lulled them into sleep eternal.

Alfred couldn't  control himself anymore. He started crying. No one could see him that time, so it was fine if he was crying. Because no one could ever know about those tears.

The heartbreaking memory of losing the one who was like a brother to him, and his pain finally put him to a dreamless sleep.

 

 

(the next morning)

 

''His will?'' America questioned. ''This is why we were gathered?''

It wasn't a typical world meeting. Only a few hours ago, Alfred -and every other personification, nation or not- was called over by Russia. Arthur was hoping that maybe Arthur had returned. But he was wrong.

''Da, he entrusted it to me. Said we open it only after at least fifty years passed.'' Russia explained. ''Today is the first day after the fifty years.''

Everyone received a file with his name on it. Not their nation names, but the human ones. Arthur had not forget a single one, and over two hundred letters reached their destination that day.

America almost tore his, to see what Arthur wrote to him.

Git. it started.

I know right now you're grimacing because I insulted you. But you are a git, because you're crying. You need to remember that nothing lasts forever, okay? You need to keep going. I'm happy now, because I can be with a couple of people I miss dearly. You know that feeling, wanker. Besides, my wife has been waiting for quite a few centuries now. Doesn't she deserve a hug?

''Wife?'' he asked Francis.

''Ah, he must mean Elizabeth. She really loved him too, you know.'' Francis chuckled at the thought. ''Of course, it's not every day your Queen announces in public how much she loves her country -and her country's personification.''

You just asked Francis, didn't you? I know you, don't try to lie! You can always open a history book, but since it's not your history, you don't care, do you?! Wanker.....

Anyways, what I'm trying to say is... Be careful, okay? And keep on living.

Arthur.

Everyone received letters along those lines. Arthur advising. Arthur wishing. Arthur caring.

Alfred felt tears coming on his way once more. But this time, they were happier tears.

Arthur didn't forget anyone. Arthur cared for all.

And Alfred was going to live by Arthur's wish.

He was going to keep aiming forward.

 

 

 

 

 

 

** Omake(??): **

 

 

 

Earth-that-used-to-be was a beautiful place. America could remember that as if it was only decades that he left the place he once called home.

England's fall was like a reminder that people -and to an extent, nations as well- drove their planet to a point of no return. This was then they moved from space exploration to the first attempt of space colonization.

The attempt was successful. Scientists and engineers managed to reach a speed close to that of light. The old nations of Earth settled in new planets, named after the nations who made it there.

That was history. It happened hundreds of years past. Our planets have overpopulated again. Those were America's thoughts, as he landed to an island of the small moon, of the unexplored planet.

That was the second space colonization. After overpopulating their new homes -just like what happened with the Earth-that-used-to-be and their nations- the need to find new planets to live rose again.

“Commander Jones!” someone called to him, and America rushed to see what was. “There's a little boy on the moon!”

“I thought the place was uninhibited!” America yelled, rushing to the screen and see what person was the boy who lived in the planet, only for shock to course over his veins and mind.

There he was; a small, frail body, clad in a green cloak. A golden mess of hair, similar to a crown adorning his head, and a pair of bright green eyes, a precious memory as the emeralds they so much resembled. America couldn't resist and ran outside, not hearing what his crew was telling him. -Many were afraid the little boy was a savage.-

Many times in his life Alfred tried to imagine Arthur as a kid, but every time he failed. Because Arthur was mother and father, older brother, his wise best friend, his guardian, his protector and obsession. Arthur was always great in Alfred's eyes. He was determined, strong, courageous. He was the kind of person that you simply can't imagine being little. Helpless. Weak.

Alfred shook his head. Of course that boy wasn't Arthur. At least, he wasn't his Arthur. He just looked like a child Arthur. And felt nothing like Arthur.

“Hello, little one.” America greeted him. “What’s your name?”

“My brothers used to call me Albion… Before they left…” he replied, hiding behind one of the trees. –Trees unlike the ones on Earth, America had to note.-

“Albion!” America yelled, running behind him. “I don’t want to hurt you! It’s just… I want to have someone to care for… Would you like to be my little brother? I never had a little brother…”

“So, um, what’s brother’s name?” the little one asked.

“I’m the one and only America, the Hero!” the older grinned.

“Hero?”

“No, no, I’m America. My friends call me Hero.” He explained.

‘Albion’ only stared, awestruck.

“So, um, do you mind if I call you something else instead of Albion?”

“What?”

America’s eyes seemed to shine as he whispered that one word he craved so much to do in centuries. “England.”

“I like it!” Albi- no, England, cheered and clapped his hands, hugging the older planet personification and former nation –not that he had any clue about that last part.

America could only feel happiness. He had England finally back.


End file.
